


a good night's sleep

by zogratiscest



Series: black clover kinktober [4]
Category: Black Clover - Tabata Yuki (Anime & Manga)
Genre: Banter, Explicit Sexual Content, Incest, Intersex, Knotting, Multi, Rough Kissing, Sex Magic, Sibling Incest, Threesome - F/M/M, Vaginal Fingering, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-05
Updated: 2020-10-05
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26837308
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zogratiscest/pseuds/zogratiscest
Summary: zenon is a night owl, and dante is not having it.
Relationships: Dante Zogratis/Vanica Zogratis/Zenon Zogratis
Series: black clover kinktober [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1952167
Comments: 12
Kudos: 32





	a good night's sleep

It is well past the late hours of the night when Dante realizes his brother is missing.

He is certain there would be gossip around the castle if his staff had any idea just how little he sleeps when either Zenon or Vanica are missing from his sheets. Before now, before the three of them united in every way that a family could, he spent long hours staring into the darkness of the night sky and wondering why sleep never came as easy to him as it did to others. Now, he sleeps like the dead, but only if his siblings are with him.

Only when he has each of them tucked up under an arm, a warm and reassuring weight, a reminder that nothing has been able to rip apart the ties that bind them.

“Of course,” he mutters into the darkness, smoothing his hand down Vanica’s back as he listens to the soft, steady sound of her breathing. Small enough to fit tucked up under his chin, her hands tangled in the fabric of his shirt, she sleeps soundly. But Dante can barely close his eyes without the itch that something is wrong. “Of course he’s still awake.”

Neither of his siblings know how badly he sleeps without them, because Dante troubles them enough with the requests he makes of them, the errands he sends them on. If he could do them all with his own two hands, he would. Only Vanica would grow bored without anything to occupy her time, and it would waste the passion and drive that Zenon carries in the very marrow of his bones. Restricting them would be like clipping the wings of a bird.

This also has the unintended side effects of finding Zenon draped over his battle plans once more in the dead of the night when he should be resting for tomorrow.

Sighing, Dante tucks his face against Vanica’s hair, soft and gently mussed from sleep, and leans back to kiss her on the forehead. She exhales dreamily in her sleep, the corner of her mouth quirking up in a half-smile as if she knows he is the one who kissed her. As if she could feel it even in her sleep, wherever her bloody dreams are taking her.

He makes sure to tuck the blanket securely around her small body, hand smoothing over the curve of her hip as she smiles softly down at her. Of the three of them, Vanica bears the cold of winter the best, still able to tolerate her short dresses with apparent ease. He thinks her lust for battle must warm her all the way down to her blood.

Ah, well. Whatever makes Vanica happy and keeps her warm in the worst of the cold.

He pauses once more to kiss her cheek, then slips out of bed to hunt down his brother and drag him to bed so that he might catch at least a few hours of sleep. Zenon is prone to late nights and early mornings, seemingly testing the very durability of his mortal body as if he finds it not quite up to par. Ridiculous, because Zenon is incredibly powerful, taking far more onto his shoulders and standing tall through it. Dante is so proud of him.

But Dante is also easily irritated when Zenon’s night owl habits interrupt his own rest.

Maybe he should tie him to the bedframe to ensure he never slips away when he should be sleeping. Or perhaps fuck him into exhaustion until even his restless mind will not be enough to move his sore, overworked limbs. Both of those are viable options.

Both at once? Dante turns the thought around in his head. It does offer up a pretty image.

Finding Zenon is hardly a difficult task. He is in the same place he always is, bent over Dante’s desk with documents strewn out in front of him and the moonlight streaming through the wide windows at his back. Focused on the task at hand as if the room is not cold, as if the hour is not late. As if his siblings would never notice him missing.

Dante takes a step, and the floor creaks. The familiar crackling shift of bone is the only warning he receives before he finds himself facing down the gleaming tips of his brother’s extended bones. Magic that could rival the demons that inhabit their bodies, in Dante’s opinion. Far more useful than his own, which he never quite likes to use.

Unless Vanica and Zenon are on the receiving end of it. Then, he can be convinced.

“Is that any way to greet your big brother?” He raises a dark brow, stretching up a hand to curl his fingers around one of the bones. Smooth and cold to the touch, pulsing with Zenon’s dark mana. He was expecting a sneak attack. “How troublesome of you.”

“My apologies.” The bones retract and Zenon rolls his shoulders before dropping his gaze to the documents in front of him once more. He lacks the good grace to look ashamed of his assumption, and Dante clicks his tongue. What a troublesome boy, indeed.

He steps into the room, eyeing the windows at Zenon’s back. “It’s late, little brother.”

“I’m aware of what time it is. Are you?” Zenon does not look up as Dante closes in on the desk, pale fingers sorting through papers with a carefully blank expression on his face. “I was not aware you had taken to late nights, Dante nii-san. You should rest.”

“So should you. I came to bring you back to bed.” Dante plants his hand on top of Zenon’s, and eyes as cold as the frost lacing the windows rise to meet his own.

Silence answers his words for far too long before Zenon tugs his hand free, delicately shifting the documents once more. “I’m not tired. I’ll return to bed when I am.”

“And the sun will have already been up for several hours by that point, and you’ll sleep for perhaps one hour before deciding you can function on that alone.” Dante braces both hands on the desk and leans across it, putting himself in his brother’s personal space. Watching dark brows draw together as Zenon frowns at him. “It’s late. Come to bed, Zenon.”

“I will soon. You should go rest. I know how you are when you don’t sleep enough.” Zenon leans back, but Dante is not having it. And he knows his brother far too well.

Zenon is fast, but Dante is faster, and he has a hand wrapped around one of the belts crossing Zenon’s hips before his brother is quite out of his range. “I’m sure you never feel as well as you say you do. We’ll both hold you until you fall asleep.”

“Unnecessary, and it doesn’t work. I’m not tired.” Zenon’s fingers slip around his wrist. And Dante might not have noticed first, but now he does. Zenon’s skin is so cold.

How can he  _ bear _ it? To sequester himself away in the dark and the cold like this when Dante and Vanica have a warm, open bed for him to join? Dante needs to work on tiring him out more. Exhausting him to the point of unconsciousness if need be just to ensure this stops happening. At this rate, he is far more likely to lose Zenon to illness or sleep deprivation than he is to the combined forces of the Clover Kingdom. And that level of idiocy on his part is intolerable. He is the eldest. He should be doing better.

“Do you need to be made tired?” Dante asks, and his lips twitch just barely at the way Zenon twitches. It takes far too much to draw a proper reaction from him, always so calculated and distant. “Vanica is resting, but she would wake up for that purpose.”

“You would disturb her rest for such a petty reason?” Zenon scoffs at him, but when he tries to lean back, Dante pulls on the belt meaningfully. He is not going anywhere.

“If there is anyone on this earth who needs beauty rest less than our sister, I’ve yet to meet them. And she would hardly complain if given the choice.” Dante pulls again, this time harder, satisfied by the displeased noise Zenon makes when his hips bump the edge of the desk. “There are few things in this world that Vanica enjoys more than watching you fall apart beneath our hands. In fact, there may be nothing she enjoys more.”

Dante would never rank his siblings on which one he enjoys debauching more, but there is a special quality to the way Zenon does not simply break, but shatters into thousands of pieces. When his face twists with pleasure and desire, when his eyes burn with tears from the overstimulation, when his voice finally shakes and breaks apart on his pleas for more… It is a sight to behold, a special occasion, one that Dante shares only with Vanica.

No one else will ever have the privilege of that. And if they do, Dante will kill them.

“I do not believe that Vanica-nee will want to be woken up from a sound rest for this.” And because he is Zenon, and because he is  _ flawless, _ Zenon untangles Dante’s fingers from his belt and squeezes his hand. “I apologize if I concern you, but I wanted to ensure I was prepared for the next step in our plans. I was restless. I did not intend to disturb you.”

“Then perhaps we can discuss it in the morning, and you can come to bed now?” Dante refuses to let this go, tangling his fingers with his brother’s. His hand is so  _ cold. _

Zenon scrapes his teeth across his lower lip, and Dante wants to stop him. Wants to lean across the desk and bite him himself, listen to the soft noises he would keep behind his teeth in an effort to hold his composure. Not enough to make him bleed unless he wants it, unless he asks for it, unless he wants to be devoured. And then Dante will lap up the mess on his mouth and revel in the coppery tang of his brother’s blood, the blood that unites the three of them together deeper than anything else ever could.

For all the malice burning black and tar-like within his veins, Dante has never taken anything that Zenon and Vanica would not freely give him of their own volition.

“Come to bed,” Dante coaxes, his voice dropping lower, softer in the quiet stretching between them. He brushes his thumb over his brother’s knuckles, then chances raising that hand to his lips. So cold, Zenon’s fingers must be numb. “You must be so tired.”

Because even in the half-darkness of the room, Dante can see the bruise-like circles beneath the pale blue eyes he loves so much. Zenon works far too hard.

“And if I’m not, Dante-nii?” Zenon arches an eyebrow in challenge, but the soft flush of pink gathering slash-like along his cheekbones would say otherwise.

Even the coldest can be melted with nothing more than a little effort, and Zenon is worth that effort and more. Zenon is worth everything Dante could ever give him, and that  _ still _ might not be enough to telegraph just how much he loves his brother.

“As I said, we have ways of making you tired.” Dante kisses his knuckles, breathing warm over his pale skin. Draws his hand closer to kiss the back of it, the proper way to respect royalty. “Is that what you want? To be sandwiched between Vanica and me?”

There is no better place for their baby brother than between them, shielded by their bodies, wrapped up in the devotion he properly deserves. Dante may be a little sick with just how much he loves Zenon, the man who was never supposed to exist. The boy who clawed his way into the world with nothing less than sheer determination.

They could have lost him before they knew him, so how can he feel anything less than this?

“Dante…” Zenon’s voice hitches when Dante turns his hand over, pressing another kiss to the thin skin of his wrist. He can feel Zenon’s pulse here, feel the way it picks up.

He wants this, and he might deny he wants it but Dante has always known him better than anyone else ever could. So he kisses Zenon’s palm, breathes into the cup of it and draws him just a touch closer to the desk. If he was impatient, he might drag him across it, scatter papers everywhere and to hell with worrying about picking them up.

Patience is rewarding, though, and Dante can be patient when it comes to his family.

“What are you two doing up this late?” Vanica calls from behind them, soft and half-asleep.

“Go back to bed, Vanica-nee. There’s no reason for you to be up this late.” Zenon’s voice is lighter now, breathier, the soft flush in his cheeks deepening spectacularly. Even he knows that denying them both is something he is incapable of. He bends so easily to them.

“Then there’s no reason for you to be up this late, either.” Vanica is so graceful even now that she glides across the floor, picking her way around Dante’s furniture and the edge of the desk. There is no escape, not when Dante still has his brother by the hand. “Sunrise is closer than it should be and here you are, overworking yourself. You’re coming to bed.”

Zenon huffs at her but Vanica is not nearly as lenient as Dante. She leans up to close the distance in their heights, her hand coming up to cup his warming cheek, and drags him down so she can kiss him. The  _ noise _ he makes against her lips is enough to make Dante’s cock twitch in interest, as is the way his cheeks steadily bleed pink as Vanica deepens the kiss. Even in the shadows, Dante can see the flash of pink tongue as she licks into his mouth.

_ Beautiful.  _ He’s content to watch them together, watch Zenon’s body visibly melt under Vanica’s attention and feel the way his hand goes slack and easy in Dante’s grip.

“Then that settles it,” he says firmly, and Vanica only stops the kiss to look at him. “We were arguing about him coming back to bed, and you’ve settled that argument beautifully.”

“Oh, he’s coming back to bed. There’s no argument to be made.” Vanica slips her hand around one of Zenon’s belts, not far from where Dante gripped him. “Let’s go. Now.”

Dante does not let go of Zenon’s hand, using it to pull him around the desk with a satisfied smile. Right up to his chest, cupping his brother’s chin so he can lay a kiss on his lips, already warm from the brush of Vanica’s tongue. He wants to bite, wants to sink his teeth in and leave marks so that everyone knows that Zenon belongs to the two of them.

He feels the weight against his chest when Vanica presses herself up against Zenon’s back, sandwiching him between them right where he should be. And he presses his forehead against Zenon’s, laughing softly when Zenon scowls at him. “Now, about that offer to tire you out. Are you going to take us up on it, or are you going to be a brat?”

“I don’t mind either way.” Vanica shifts against Zenon’s back, and Dante can feel her hands slipping between their bodies, spread wide over Zenon’s stomach.

“I’ll go without a fight just this once.” Zenon twists his head away and Dante smiles, kissing the exposed side of his neck. Now  _ here, _ he can at least leave bruises.

Between himself and Vanica, they all but drag their little brother back to bed with them. His body is warm and responsive to their touches, and they only stop a  _ few _ times to give him kisses, to touch, to admire what belongs to them. Who can blame them?

They leave his belts in the hallway, practiced in smoothly unbuckling the leather and leaving it for their servants to gather up in the morning. Through the crack in the bedroom door, shutting it firmly behind them. No one else is allowed to see. No one else is allowed to be involved in what belongs solely to the three of them.

Vanica presses Zenon back against the door, leaning up to lick the bottom of the demon marking that bisects his eye. “Do we need to drag you to bed every night? Because I’m game for that, you know. We can start in the tub so you’re good and warm next time.”

“Unnecessary,” Zenon mutters, but Vanica captures his lips in another searing kiss.

“Wholly necessary,” Dante argues, tracing the worn, dark fabric of the shirt Zenon changed into for bed where it covers his side, feeling the muscles there twitch in response. “We’ll see how much you argue tomorrow night, shall we?”

Zenon twists his mouth away from Vanica’s as if he has more to say, but Dante doesn’t let him. Instead, he closes the space between their mouths, crushing his brother’s lips beneath his own so there can be no more room for argument. This took  _ time, _ careful practice to draw him in, to reassure him, and Dante is an expert. Cups Zenon’s cheek so he can’t turn his head away, licking at the seam of his mouth until he dutifully opens up. Such a good boy when he’s overwhelmed, when the promise of so much more is there.

He makes a noise against Dante’s lips, sudden and sharp, and Dante leans back only to look down to see what Vanica is getting up to. One of her hands has disappeared down the front of Zenon’s pants, intently working beneath the fabric, her lips split into a smile so delighted that her eye shines in the darkness. His sister is so beautiful.

“It doesn’t take much,” Vanica informs him, and Dante chuckles softly as he nods. For all his bravado, Zenon falls apart at so little. “He’s already hard. And wet. What were the two of you doing in that office to get him so riled up before I even showed up?”

“I guess we’ll have to reenact it for you.” Dante kisses her on the forehead, and Zenon makes a helpless,  _ vulnerable _ sound when Vanica does something with her hand.

Gorgeous. Absolutely perfect. If he’s already worked up, he’ll unravel at the seams.

“Undress,” Dante tells him, and Zenon jerks his head to the side, refusing to make eye contact.  _ Brat. _ “ _ Undress, _ Zenon. You won’t be able to go back to working so peacefully now, so if you want us to give you more, you had better make that clear.”

“Oh, please do,” Vanica purrs, and she leaves him against the door, darting over to tuck herself up against Dante’s side. Her fingers are slick, and she offers them to him.

The earthy, salty tang of his brother’s arousal is like fine wine on Dante’s tongue, and he sucks Vanica’s fingers into his mouth as he settles a hand on her hip. He’d been gifted with not one but  _ two _ adorable siblings, and he cherishes them both. Even when one of them feels the need to make life difficult for all three of them with such careless actions.

The pink slashes of color on Zenon’s cheeks adopt a redder hue as he shrugs out of his shirt, the slight quiver in his hands giving away how much he wants this. There are bruises already bitten and licked along his torso, standing out dark and heavy against his ivory skin. They create a map of just how much Dante and Vanica love him, how much they can never quite keep their hands off of him. How they  _ need _ to mark him as theirs.

A particularly noteworthy one on the slope of his hip makes Dante smirk.

“What a pretty boy,” Vanica coos, her eyes sweeping up Zenon’s torso. Their brother is built tall and broad-shouldered but otherwise lean. Dante would know. He’s traced every curve of flesh and muscle with his mouth and hands more times than he can count.

“Nee-san,” Zenon complains, but he doesn’t look at either of them. Just lets the shirt slip from his fingertips before he unfasts the pants and lets them fall.

Zenon truly was made  _ specifically _ for them. The slender curve of his cock is already hard, the tip slick with pre-come, flushed so red and pretty and Dante knows how sensitive he is, how one hand wrapped around the hot flesh would have him near pleading for one of them to do something. And beneath, the slit of his cunt is already slick with need, doubly prepared for either or both of them to have their way with him. Such a good boy.

“ _ Pretty _ isn’t the word for it,” Dante murmurs, and Zenon scowls at him as he leans back against the door. Leans back, until Dante holds out his hand and beckons him to come.

The three of them have considerable strength even beyond their devil abilities. It takes nothing to drag Zenon up against his chest and then  _ throw _ him onto the mattress so hard he bounces. Vanica laughs and leaps onto the bed after him, on top of him before he can complain about Dante manhandling him, her lips smothering his with affectionate kisses.

And Dante doesn’t miss the way he jolts when Vanica wraps her hand around his cock, already getting right to business with the way she strokes him.

“Now, that’s an image I could get used to.” Dante shrugs out of his own shirt, letting his underwear fall to the floor with it as he joins them on the bed. “Share, Vanica.”

“Of course.” Vanica pouts up at him but shifts on the bed so that Dante can join her in the space between their brother’s wide-spread legs, eyes drawn to the way her pale, delicate fingers look against Zenon’s needy flesh. “He’s already so ready for us.”

“Maybe we shouldn’t keep him waiting, then.” And even as he says it, Dante’s fingers drop down to Zenon’s cunt, tracing the slit just to part it delicately around his fingers. Almost difficult to believe his brother could have such a soft place in such a hard body.

Zenon’s head falls back against the pillows as they toy with him, Vanica’s uneven strokes and twisting motions keeping his hips bucking up while Dante much more carefully pets his fingers over the wet, twitching entrance. He could delve right in without hesitation and it wouldn’t hurt Zenon enough for him to say  _ stop, _ but Dante is a rather indulgent brother. He always has been. It’s why Vanica always gets whatever she wants.

“If it wasn’t so late,” Vanica murmurs, “I wouldn’t let you come for being so bad.”

“Maybe tomorrow we’ll punish him. But for now…” Dante wraps a hand around Zenon’s hip, keeping him in place as he slips just two fingers inside of him. Just enough to see how open he is, how receptive he’ll be if Dante rushes things just a little tonight.

How likely it is he can keep Zenon between them even if he  _ wants _ to get back up.

Vanica licks her lips and grins. “Tomorrow it is. For now, we fuck him.”

Ice blue eyes melt into warm puddles as Zenon looks up at them, lips parted around small, desperate noises while Vanica wraps  _ both _ hands around him and Dante slowly strokes his spasming inner walls. He’s their little brother, their pride and joy, made for them and to be with them, between them, safe even though he’s far more capable of protecting them than they are him. Far more capable to deal with the looming threats ahead.

“Please,” he chokes, and Dante hums softly in answer, stroking his hip down to one pale thigh, digging his fingers in hard enough to bruise. More marks for him to carry tomorrow, more memories that he’s theirs, that only they can ever own him like this.

Anyone else who tries will be swiftly dealt with, and left to rot in pieces.

“Tell us what you want,” Dante coaxes him, rubbing  _ up _ until Zenon’s head smashes back against the pillows. Slick dribbles over his fingers and he coos in answer, so pleased at how his brother responds to his touch. He’s worked so hard to learn exactly how to touch him.

“Dante-nii.” Vanica’s voice is soft and breathy as she leans forward, panting almost like a wild beast as she eyes the way Zenon writhes for them. “Can we have him now?”

Dante hums thoughtfully, presses another finger inside and delights in the way Zenon opens up for it. Takes it without any hesitation, any resistance. Made just for this purpose.

“Just a bit more, Vanica,” he says, and she pouts but nods, running her fingers over the head of Zenon’s cock, smearing her fingers with pre-come so she can stroke him faster. He won’t last long if she does that to him… But Dante knows he’ll try just the same.

Such a precious boy, so easily taken apart when it’s the two of them doing it.

His hand slides back up to Zenon’s hip, holding him tightly as he presses his fingers in deeper, as deep as he can get them. Everything inside is tight and slick and warm, so inviting in such a harsh time of year. Pale skin is blotchy with splotches of rose pink and Zenon’s eyes are dazed as he gives himself to them. So trusting.

It would be wrong to let him down. Luckily, neither of them ever would.

Only when Dante is absolutely certain Zenon is utterly relaxed does he drop a kiss on Vanica’s bare shoulder. “Go ahead. I think he’s ready for both of us now.”

He wraps fingers wet with slick around Zenon’s cock so it’s ready for Vanica, watching her climb on top of him, straddling his hips. She doesn’t bother taking off the nightgown she’s wearing, just tugging it up around her waist so it isn’t in her way. Dante helps her, sidling up behind her, and tugs the gown the rest of the way over her head.

“I’ll get cold,” she pouts back at him, as if the thin silk was going to keep her warm.

“Isn’t that what I’m for?” He cups her chin and tilts her back against his chest so he can lean down and kiss her, reveling in the sweetness of her lips and the way her warm, wet tongue eagerly meets his. “I’m sure the two of us will keep you from catching a chill.”

He kisses her cheek, her throat, her shoulder. Slips a hand down to cup her breast, squeezing gently, palming her nipple until it’s stiff and she whimpers up at him. All snarl, all bite unless it’s them, and he knows how to make her go soft and sweet unlike any other.

His hand slides down her belly to her cunt, parting her lips so he can touch her clit, ensuring she’s wet enough to take Zenon without pain. Any other night, earlier than this, he’d let her do as she pleased because the soreness is a token of their time together, but not when it’s so late. Not when he already disturbed her sleep by waking her.

“Ready?” His voice is light, teasing, and Vanica smacks him on the chest hard enough to knock a little of the air out of him. “I was just asking, Vanica. No need to be rude.”

She huffs at him, crimson disappearing beneath the black of her lashes. “Zenon’s right. You’re always such a tease. Let me ride him so you can fuck him.”

“I wasn’t going to tell you that you couldn’t.” He kisses her once more and wraps a hand around Zenon’s cock, turning to look down at their little brother.

Hooded blue eyes watch them lazily and Dante hums softly as he helps Vanica slide down on Zenon’s cock, admiring the way she arches and twists her body. She’s adorable when she’s a little tired, a little more uncoordinated than usual so that she leans back against him as she sinks down inch by inch. And Zenon only watches them, his breathing slow and easy, the muscles in his thighs and hips pulling taut. Probably trying his best not to move.

“Are you enjoying watching?” Dante asks him, chuckling when Zenon only nods his head a little. “I’m glad. Because we’re enjoying the view just as much as you are.”

“Little brother’s so pretty,” Vanica agrees, smacking Dante’s hands away, leaning over to plant her own on Zenon’s chest. She doesn’t need time to adjust, already swiveling her hips so she can ride him, sliding up and down his shaft, so wet that Dante can  _ hear _ it.

It’s nice to see them get along like this. He’d been worried about them when they were younger, when Zenon was too young to care for himself even with how capable he is. When Vanica needed Dante’s attention all the time, acting like she’d die without it.

He has nothing to worry about now, not with how Vanica giggles as she rides their little brother, the way her hands press down on his chest so possessively. Dante drops a kiss onto her back as he adjusts position behind her, sliding his hands under Zenon’s hips to pull him into a more favorable position. Then he takes his cock in hand and presses it against his brother’s folds, watching them part wide enough to take him all the way in.

A hiss leaves his lips as he forces himself to go slowly, uncharacteristic of their time together. Zenon’s cunt is tight, wrapping around him like a second skin, like their bodies are determined to bind them together as closely as possible. And Dante leans into it, pushing against the throbbing, against the slickness until it punches a groan out of Zenon’s chest. To be taken in and filled, wholly owned by the two of them.

“Good boy,” Dante praises him, leaning against Vanica’s back so he can touch Zenon’s face. His fingers slide through a trail of drool next to his brother’s lips, and he smiles softly in sympathy. “Just lie there and let us take care of you. We’re right here.”

Zenon reaches for him and Dante takes his hand, holding it tightly in his own while Vanica takes the other. Grounding him even as Dante shifts and  _ moves, _ keeping an even and smooth pace as he fucks his little brother open. As Vanica rises and falls in earnest, leaning back against Dante for balance. And he’s there, his free arm around her waist, holding her up. He has  _ both _ of them, whenever they need him, no matter what.

It’s hard to focus on anything past the sensations, the way Vanica moans loud and shameless while every choked moan and cry that leaves Zenon’s lips has to be fought out of his body. And they’re both  _ perfect, _ and Dante is so happy to have both of them.

He’d like to see what force on earth, above, or below could pry them apart.

Vanica shakes apart entirely too fast, raking her nails down Zenon’s chest so hard it leaves crimson welts on his skin. Dante watches her, tightening his grip on her so she doesn’t just fall, letting her ride through it. Feeling every jerk and twitch of her soft body against his own, burying his face against the crook of her neck. She’s so lovely.

He holds her until she stops quaking, until she’s only gasping for air in his embrace, and then she pushes at his arm. “Lemme go so you can finish him off. He still needs to come.”

“Of course, darling.” Dante whispers the word reverently against her neck and follows it up with a kiss, watching her slide off of Zenon’s cock with ease, stretching out on the mattress next to him. Hard not to pay attention to her, the deep flush of her cunt. Hard not to want to just lean down and taste, but tomorrow. Right now…

Dante’s hand slides down Zenon’s thigh into the bend of his knee, holding him open wider, leaning down to kiss him. He’s already sunk in to the hilt but that’s not enough for him, not enough to exhaust his brother, and they both know it. And he shoves his tongue into Zenon’s mouth to taste every extravagant noise he makes while Dante’s grimoire flutters open on the dresser across the room. He has to keep his brother in bed tonight.

Hands scrabble at his back before digging into his shoulder blades, desperate noises against his mouth while he holds himself as deep in his brother as he can get. Body magic has its uses even if Dante has never truly liked it, but for this, it is perfect. For filling and stretching his brother to the absolute limit, it works like a charm.

“Bastard,” Zenon rasps against his lips, gripping Dante so fiercely tight now it’s almost painful. An experimental roll of the hips has Dante’s cock  _ rubbing _ inside of him and it sends his brother’s back arching, his mouth falling open on a loud, helpless shout.

“That’s what I like to hear.” He doesn’t mind the insult at all, sliding his arm under Zenon’s hips, the angle letting him hit as deep as he likes. Until there is simply nowhere else to go, pressed right up against the vulnerable, sensitive barrier deep, deep inside.

Zenon’s hands quake against his back and Dante kisses him, reminding him he won’t hurt him as much as he will overwhelm him. Not right now and most certainly not like this, when the possibility of true damage is too high. Every thrust is slow and easy, dragging against sensitive nerves and spots, the head of his cock pressing against that barrier but not past it, not trying to force it open. And it is still enough to make Zenon’s body shake under his, the stimulation far too much for him to do anything but feel it.

“My good boy, aren’t you?” Dante cups his cheek and kisses him, keeping their hips pressed together, leaning into every thrust. “Take it so well, hmm? Like you were made to take it.”

“Nii-san.” It’s all Zenon can get out before his voice breaks, before he’s choking on another helpless little sound, vulnerable and sweet. Just like when he was a little boy insistent he could take Dante despite the strain, clinging to him just like he is now.

Dante didn’t let him down then, and he doesn’t now. Taking him slow and sweet like a lover, like only a big brother can. Keeping him pressed close so he doesn’t have to free up a hand to touch his cock, too intent on holding him close, on touching his face. On licking the sounds off of his lips and sucking them off of his tongue, drinking in the way he falls apart over and over again. Focusing on him to last as long as possible. Dante does his best to ignore the tight burn in his own gut, the need to come, because Zenon isn’t  _ there _ yet.

“Look at me,” Dante whispers, and Zenon does. Pleasure-dazed blue eyes and swollen lips and red cheeks, he’s  _ perfect _ and he’s all theirs, and Dante will not share him with anyone else besides Vanica. He belongs to them and with them, and nothing will change that.

And a particularly hard roll of his hips is all it takes to make Zenon go abruptly, sharply still in his arms. Body shaking so hard, mouth trembling around soundless cries.

The tight, sudden, vicious clench of his body is enough to bring Dante over the edge. He slams his hand down against the mattress to hold himself up, eyes squeezed shut against the rush of it, the burn of pleasure. And then he reaches for his grimoire again, because he  _ meant _ it when he thought he’d find a way to tie Zenon to the bed.

And he can do that just fine with his own body, especially still inside of him.

“Oh, fuck you.” Zenon throws an arm over his eyes, hissing slightly at what is a familiar stretch for him now. They play plenty of games together, the three of them.

“Mm, I believe you just did.” Dante drops a kiss on his lips, pulling his exhausted brother against his chest so he can maneuver them into a more comfortable position.

Vanica giggles sleepily, already moving to curl up against Zenon’s back, kissing the base of his neck. “You can’t exactly get out of bed now as long as he’s knotted inside of you.”

“I know, I know. He’s done it before.” Zenon huffs but goes slack between them, arms slipping around Dante’s shoulders as he nuzzles into his shoulder. And that’s true, Dante has, but usually at Zenon’s or Vanica’s request. When they want to  _ stay _ full.

“As long as you get enough rest, I won’t have to do it again, hmm? Be less stubborn about it.” Dante runs his fingers over short back hair, letting Zenon cuddle as close as he wants before he reaches for Vanica with his other hand. Pulling her just as close.

Zenon huffs. “I’ll think about it. Now  _ sleep. _ I’m tired and you’re still talking.”

Dante doesn’t argue the point. He just pulls his siblings a little closer while Vanica tugs the comforter up over the three of them, her legs tangling with theirs under its warmth.

Finally, he can sleep.

**Author's Note:**

> my username makes a lot of sense now doesn't it


End file.
